Under Bevelle's Skies
by Yunasdestiny
Summary: Yuna centric drabble about life, dreams and memories. COMPLETE!


**AN: Another little one-shot/drabble for you guys. I love exploring Yuna's thoughts on her father and what little she would remember of him; memories and bits and pieces of her past that ultimately shaped her as she grew. -Le sigh- Anywho, enjoy!**

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><p>"My father...I loved him."<p>

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><p>A vibrant spectrum of lights painted the black sky pin-holed with stars that night. Music bled through the heart stopping booms of the fireworks that echoed all around the four corners of Spira. People young and old marched along in droves, smiling and laughing; I even remember a child nestled between his parents—their fingers guiding innocent eyes upward to gaze at the sight. His lips parted as if to squeal in delight as they spoke of the celebration, but for the life of me, I can't recall what it was he said. The image of his happiness is what will be forever emblazoned in my mind.<p>

I watched it all. I was there when the veil of silence had befallen us, and I will never forget the earth shattering shriek that pierced that deafening silence. We had all held our breaths, and when it was over, when everyone else let out rousing cheers of victory, my heart fell to my feet in a million pieces. I felt the warmth of him leave me standing there on the Highbridge alone. It was then, when all the other children began chasing each other around in circles, that I fell to my knees and let my head fall into my hands.

_How could they? Don't they know what just happened?_

Those bitter thoughts swam around in my mind, ripping through me and falling from my eyes in the form of hot, salty tears. They were limitless. Never ending. I wept for what they couldn't have known, even though he had once been cast from their embrace. These people…his brethren…turned their backs on him and in return, he had given them freedom.

_A selfless act._

I tried to remind myself—really, I did. I wanted to believe that when he reached the end, it was me he was thinking of. I wanted to believe…everything he told me. But, when I tore my reddened eyes away from tear stained palms and forced myself to look up, all I could see was a place in the sky where not even the brightest firework could reach. Even though my sights were blurred with more tears dancing along swollen eyelids, I could see three stars. The only belief I could cling to now, was that his was the one in the middle; the brightest of them all that night, and he was shining…just for me. Just this once, to remind me that he could see how much I yearned to have him by my side.

_My father, __Lord Braska__._

_Well, High Summoner Braska, now._

His name would no longer be shunned. He would no longer be what they feared, but someone to be spoken of in high regards. And I? His legacy. I would have gladly followed in the footprints he left behind. I would have stumbled in the same places and stood victorious upon the same precipice that overlooked what awaited him in Zanarkand. Yes. I would have kept the innocence…if he wanted me to, and I wanted nothing more to meet his embrace once it was over.

As it turns out, my father left me so much more than the comforting knowledge that he was there with me in spirit.

He left me truth. A sense of justice. But he wasn't alone. And because of my father and his friends, they also left me with someone who would give me the courage that I needed to finally set this right. It might not have been straight forward, and there might have been obstacles along the way, but their messages got through.

So when I look back now, I don't have to think it a thankless effort nor a sacrifice made in vain. I can take those memories of a young orphaned girl and smile. I can ease her suffering, if only in a comforting embrace possible only in the dreams that used to plague my sleep, and tell her it'll be ok. She'll try her best to smile, but deep inside I know her heart is breaking each time, staring up at me with those blue and green eyes. That's when I hold her like he used to—I'll whisper the words meant to be whispered from his lips, and she'll hiccup from the quieting sobs.

*"Tnaysc yna pid fecrac oad du lusa dnia, Yuna."*

And even though she doesn't realize who I am and never will, she smiles. She smiles, the tears will cease, and her heart will start to mend.

*_Translated text_, "Dreams are but wishes yet to come true, Yuna."*


End file.
